


Everything in Retrospect

by an_aphorism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Infidelity, End of Marriage, Fix-It, Hopeful Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Peril, Poisoning, Post-Season/Series 08, Shiro really going through it but thats S8's fault, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/pseuds/an_aphorism
Summary: Shiro is typing away at his computer, half-asleep and just slogging through the work day when the call comes. It’s from, surprisingly, Lance, which is why Shiro answers in the first place. If it’s Pidge or Matt or even his husband, sometimes he just lets them go to voicemail. More often than not the call is another task, another meeting, another argument and sometimes Shiro just… can’t.“Shiro!” Lance’s voice when he answers is strange, too loud and too edged. “Shiro it’s Keith— he—“A sick, cold thing drops immediately through Shiro. He’s standing before he even realizes it, almost tipping over his coffee that’s long gone cold on his desk.“Keith? What happened?!”
Relationships: Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 376





	Everything in Retrospect

**Author's Note:**

> Fic requested by @lionescence on twitter who wanted a post-series where Keith gets hurt and Shiro wakes the heck up to where his life has gone. 
> 
> Underline tags for angst and marriage in shambles. tiny bit of violence but it's off screen, small mention of blood.

Shiro is typing away at his computer, half-asleep and just slogging through the work day when the call comes. It’s from, surprisingly, Lance, which is why Shiro answers in the first place. If it’s Pidge or Matt or even his husband, sometimes he just lets them go to voicemail. More often than not the call is another task, another meeting, another argument and sometimes Shiro just… can’t.

“Shiro!” Lance’s voice when he answers is strange, too loud and too edged. “Shiro it’s Keith— he—“

A sick, cold thing drops immediately through Shiro. He’s standing before he even realizes it, almost tipping over his coffee that’s long gone cold on his desk.

“Keith? What happened?!”

He’s moving to his work bag, phone pressed between ear and shoulder.

“There’s… he was on Vithr helping the Blades, there was… an empire loyalist and we think he’s been poisoned.”

Shiro stalks to the door, his heart rattling in his chest. Nothing’s moved him so fast since the war finished, and his body is nearly quivering with the influx of adrenaline. He’s so unused to feeling like this these days. It’s hard to breathe around the knot of anxiety building in him.

“Where is he?” Shiro demands.

“ICU unit on Kishmar X. It was the closest hospital we could trust. He— it’s not good Shiro—“

Lance cuts off then, a sob comes through the line. It breaks something in Shiro, something that had been long settled and gathering dust. Before he knows it he’s out of his office and down the hall, heading for the ships hanger. “Send me the coordinates.”

“They’re in your messages. Pidge sent them to everyone.”

They hang up then because there’s nothing else to say, and Shiro frankly can’t focus on the conversation. Lance is breaking down as the call ends, but that’s not important. The only thing important at this juncture is Keith, and getting there.

Someone’s been briefed by the time that Shiro arrives in the hanger. Atlas has been cleared for liftoff, and no one stops him as he boards. He knows he must look a force, must look like a wreckage of a man if there’s anything of his insides spilling out.

But he’s glad for the Atlas, glad for the barriers that have been mysteriously removed.

And at the same time he hates them. How seamlessly everything moves out of his way spells a kind of disaster he doesn’t know how to look at. The rest of the Atlas flight crew are solemn when he gets to the deck, and they start the take-off procedure even before Shiro can say anything.

There’s an air to it, a finality, and it almost chokes him.

“Captain, you should sit.” A woman is suddenly at his side, someone Shiro knows he knows the name of, but right now can’t come up with. She guides him to his captain’s seat, and Shiro nearly drops into it. His hands are shaking.

“Any news?” he asks.

He doesn’t even need to specify, because apparently the situation is that severe.

“No sir.”

The thing in his chest twists tighter.  
Atlas is the fastest ship they have, and still it’s at least an hour between worm holes and good old fashion flying to get to Kishmar X. The terror doesn’t leave Shiro, and he can’t focus on anything else. He’s not even really thinking of Keith, because he can’t stand to, can’t stand the idea of slipping into loss. He refuses to acknowledge that this could be a situation that ends in loss. It’s unthinkable.

The crew flies mostly without Shiro’s guidance. He sits and breathes and keeps his thoughts tightly under control. There’s no use in speculating, in worrying. They don’t know anything.

Then, finally, Kishmar X is just ahead. Shiro looks at it through their screens, trying to force himself to breathe, not to lose it completely. There’s been no pings to his phone, no updates sent to the Atlas. It’s good and bad news all at once.

Before all the landing steps are even done, Shiro’s down at the exit, forcing the door open. It’s highly irregular but no one stops him, and his connection with Atlas means they couldn’t even if they wanted to.

Just outside the landing zone is a Galra in a Blades uniform. Shiro stalks toward him, and the man doesn’t even bother with talk, just turns and leads Shiro toward the medical building. They bypass security and the waiting area and go up two floors to the ICU department. The signs are all in a language Shiro doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t matter. The design of the area tells him all he needs to know.

There’s another waiting area up on this floor, and Shiro has just enough awareness to see Kolivan, Lance, and a few other Blades there. The man he’s following doesn’t stop there though, so Shiro doesn’t either.

They go to the door at the end of the hall. There’s another Galra there, a huge wall of a man that’s clearly been put on security. He steps aside at once and then the door swooshes open.

Inside the room has been dimmed, and there’s Krolia in a seat beside the bed, head bowed in her hands.

For one terrible, terrible moment Shiro thinks maybe it’s too late, maybe—

He must make some kind of sound, some choking, awful noise, because Krolia picks her head up. Her face is wet and stricken.  
“Shiro.”

“Is he…?” Shiro crosses the room, and every footstep feels leaden.

“Stable,” Krolia says. “But uncertain yet. We don’t know how much m’erwah he was given. The blood panels are running, and they’ve given him what they can to counteract but—“

Shiro doesn’t recognize the name of the poison.

“It’s almost always fatal to Galra.”

The words cost Krolia something. He knows they’re for his benefit, an explanation of just how bad it is, but it strikes his chest with the same severity of a knife. Shiro steps up to the bedside.

Keith’s laying there, unconscious and hooked up to a dozen things. His coloring is wrong, too pale, and there’s a sheen of sweat across his skin.

Shiro reaches a hand out, and it’s still quivering when he lies it on Keith’s. His skin is hot to the touch, and just at the wrist Shiro can see how hard his heart is working. Still, it’s good to touch him, good to feel him alive in this moment under Shiro’s hands.

“Since you’re here, I’m going to step out a moment.”

He looks up to see himself reflected in Krolia. She looks moments away from breaking completely, and Shiro doesn’t blame her for wanting a little privacy for that. He nods.

The moment the door slides shut, Shiro collapses down against the bed. He doesn’t touch any of the wires or equipment, keeps only his hand touching Keith’s. He feels worn though, like he’s aged a thousand years in the span of an hour.

“Ke-ith,” His voice breaks, and then suddenly the tears do come. It cracks all the way through him like a fatal wound. “Fuck,” he cries, smearing his tears against the harsh hospital sheets. “Fuck.”

Everything unwinds then. The senselessness of it all. His job at the Garrison, the day after day monotony. He thought he’d made peace with it, settled into a relationship and then a marriage. He thought he wanted—

It’s so stupidly, obviously clear to Shiro now though. All of it pales in comparison to this. This one bed holds his whole heart, and to think that he hadn’t been here, that he may have lost the one thing—

It’s _unthinkable_. It’s the worst thing.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, gripping Keith’s hand. “I should have…”

He doesn’t know. Logically there’s no way Shiro could have stopped this, even if he were there.

But it aches knowing Keith was far, far away. He was with some Blades, and they care about Keith of course, but not like Shiro does.

They haven’t seen each other in over a month. They’d had lunch before Keith had shipped off and it had been good, but Shiro’s mind had been mulling over a fight with Curtis, and he hadn’t been as present as he should have been.

He regrets it. Regrets so much.

It feels wrong, everything that’s occurred since the end of the war. Shiro swung out of orbit and has been aimlessly careening through open space. Without Keith he’s just been… lost.

He turns his head and presses a damp kiss to the back of Keith’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”

##

The day is long, and the night longer still. Shiro and Krolia take shifts watching over Keith, but it wears them down. It’s hard to sit bedside and helpless, but harder still to break for food or the bathroom.

By suns rise on Kishmar X both he and Krolia are muzzy and useless. They’d both talked at each other about going to sleep properly, but neither had managed it. There’d been an overarching worry that without their constant vigilance Keith could just slip away.

And that worry hadn’t been unfounded. In the middle of the night there had been a sharp decline in Keith’s health, one where all the nurse crowded in to stabilize him. They’d avoided the worst, but it had shaken Shiro and Krolia to the core. It hurt to look at Krolia after that, it hurt to know Shiro probably looks the same. _Broken_.

In the end they have to be physically forced from the room. Kolivan and Hunk take the honors, and before arguments can be had they’re both given sleeping pills and a quiet room.

“You won’t be any good to him like this,” Hunk says, gentle but firm.

Still Shiro lies in the cot with the worry chewing his insides, his hand tingles with the loss of Keith’s. Eventually the sleeping medication forcefully pulls him down.

When Shiro wakes, there’s a pure, beautiful moment where he doesn’t remember.

Then he’s up and out of the room. Krolia is already back in Keith’s room.

“Stable,” she says. “Better.” There’s a beat. “They think because he’s only half Galra…”

Shiro drops back into his chair. Keith doesn’t look any better in the bed, but the fact that he’s lasted this long gives Shiro an intoxicating whiff of hope.

He’s heard through all the doctors and nurses that m’erwah works quick. Most deaths happen within a seven to twelve hour window. Keith’s now almost at twenty-four. It’s hopeful, certainly, but Shiro’s still so, so afraid of giving himself over to that hope. His heart is a bruise in his chest, and he doesn’t know if he could stand hope and then have it crushed.

He refuses to think further than that.

Midday Hunk returns, poking his head into the room. “Hey Shiro, you’ve gotten a bunch of calls from Curtis.”

Shiro hears the words, but processing them takes work. When it does get through, it’s so meaningless.

Curtis is his husband, and he should care more, should have spent maybe just one moment since Lance called and now on Curtis and notifying him. He hasn’t though.

There’s a spider web of thoughts that are hooked to that. Shiro knows where they lead, and what they mean. It’s impossible not to. Impossible not to know with a devastating certainty that he’s exactly where he needs to be with exactly who he needs to be with.

  
“Okay,” He says.

Hunk is there beside him then offering his phone. Shiro doesn’t even know when or how Hunk got it. Shiro looks at it, but then shakes his head. He can’t… deal with that right now.

  
”I’ll let him know,” Hunk says.

“Thank you.”

##

They spend another day on bedside duty, barely talking. Shiro finds every reason under the sun to touch Keith, adjusting his pillows, making sure the monitors are properly attached, assisting Krolia in basic cleanliness. Touching Keith is a tangible reminder that he’s here, that he’s still alive. He knows Krolia clocks him a dozen times slipping his hand into Keith’s, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s just as often guilty on the other side of the bed. Between their wills, Shiro fantasizes, Keith will not come to further harm.

Shiro gets his phone back at some point during the day, but avoids looking at any messages and only uses it to do as much research on the poison as he can. Krolia likewise is on her phone dealing with the criminality of what’s been done to Keith.

When exhaustion demands it, they manage to trade off for sleep. Shiro takes the first sleep shift, aided by a sleeping pill. He hates it, and wakes groggy to Krolia nudging him.

“He woke,” she says, and it’s like a lightning bolt through Shiro. Clumsily he struggles up out of the sheets and to his feet. “Woah, hey,” she says putting a hand on his shoulder to still him. “He’s gone back to sleep. It wasn’t much, but a good sign.”

“Okay. Okay. Good sign,” Shiro’s mind is a scattered mess, but hope blooms through it.

“I’ll sleep now. Wake me if it’s necessary.”

Shiro agrees to this, then she lets him go. He’s off like a shot, exiting the room and going to Keith’s.

Keith’s still in the bed, looking almost the same. Shiro takes his seat beside and curls his hands around Keith’s. There’s a bit more color to his skin now that Shiro’s closer. The fever has gone down because Keith’s hand isn’t overly warm in his own. He strokes his thumb across the back of Keith’s hand, memorizing it with infinite care.

Two hours later Kolivan knocks and comes in. “Captain, we got confirmation back on the suspect. Krolia was handling it, but I hate to wake her when she’s just finally slept. Do you want updates on it, or shall I just let the Blades run it?”

Everything in Shiro shifts at that. “Is the suspect in custody?”

“Should be shortly. Then there will be an interrogation.”

Shiro stands before he’s even thought it. “I want to be there.”

Kolivan nods. He walks into the room and offers a datapad to Shiro. “Here’s all the information we have. I can stay with Keith.”

All the fear and dread inside Shiro begins to churn like the ocean in an oncoming storm. He feels, for the first time since he got the news, angry.

 _Furious_. 

He takes the datapad and scans the photo and information on one Q’oth Krenth. The Galra is tall, slender, and with a nasty scar curving his jaw. There’s limited background information on him other than his suspected ties to Empire loyalists.

Shiro’s out of that room and down the hall, fueled by the incandescent rage beginning to pump into his veins. The newest update at the bottom of the document states that Krenth is currently being taken into custody to be transferred to the local precinct.

Shiro wouldn’t leave Keith’s bedside for anything but this. He’s suddenly incapable of just sitting by and letting others handle it. This man almost took Keith from him, and Shiro won’t stand for it. He won’t.

He walks the five blocks out of the medical center and to the precinct. Immediately a Blade recognizes Shiro and takes him to the appropriate room. When Krenth is brought in, it’s all Shiro can do not to reach across and deck him.

Strangely though the man only has eyes for Shiro. He ignores the official interrogators and answers only the questions presented by Shiro. It doesn’t take much time after that for them to regroup and leave Shiro alone in the room with Krenth. That’s when it really gets good for Shiro.

Twenty minutes later Shiro storms from the room, knuckles bloody. The officers nod at him, making comments about how Krenth obtained several injuries resisting arrest, and how they should be documented thusly. Shiro thanks them for the time, and they promise to send him the write up of the full confession once they process Krenth.

Shiro walks back out into the sunslight of Kishmar X and feels something settle, satisfied inside his chest. His knuckles throb from the rough treatment, but even that sort of feels good. He’s not one for violence since the war ended, but it also just felt… right. He wasn’t there to protect Keith when it happened, but he could do this.

And in the future he would do better.

The pride of that, the promise, fills Shiro’s on the walk back. Keith’s doing better, the suspect is in custody will a full confession of co-conspirators.

Then Shiro walks into the hospital and sees Curtis seated in the hospital waiting room.

##

“I can’t do this right now,” Shiro says when they walk back outside. He can tell just from his husband’s demeanor that it’s going to be a fight.

“Can’t do _this_?” Curtis says, affronted. “Shiro I’ve been calling you for two days! I know they’ve passed messages along to you.”

Shiro can barely look at him, he desperately wants to be back in Keith’s room. He’s been gone a while, and what if Keith’s woken up?

“I’ve been busy. Keith almost died!”

“Yeah. I heard. And I’m sorry about that, but I was worried about you!”

“No need to be. I’m fine. Now I need to—“ Shiro tries to sidestep Curtis, but the man grabs his arm.

“Shiro slow down. You look awf—“And then he’s turning over Shiro’s hand to see his bloody knuckles. “What the hell? What happened?!”

Shiro pulls his hand away. “Nothing. I was helping with the suspect interrogation.”

Curtis’ eyes go wide. “What? Shiro did you hit him?”

“He deserved worse,” Shiro says darkly.

“What?”

Shiro crosses his arms. “What?”

Curtis blinks at him, looking utterly bewildered. “Who are you?”

The question hits Shiro like a slap. The way Curtis says it is heavy with judgement. Maybe it’s not necessarily negative, but it rubs Shiro wrong anyway. He’s mad about even having to have this conversation, about the time currently being wasted, and that Curtis would come here to do this _now_.

“Someone with better places to be,” Shiro clips, and then does manage to step around Curtis and into the hospital once more.

##

Shiro knows that Curtis stays on planet, but Shiro doesn’t let himself think about it. He knows something’s been fractured between them, and maybe it’s even permanent. He’s surprised at how little he feels about it. It’s just like a fact in his brain, like the weather or the lunch menu. Something he immediately shoves out of mind to deal with later.

For now there’s only Keith. Keith who’s been showing better signs all day. Keith who all the nurses are hopeful will wake again soon.

Soon can’t come fast enough.

When it happens Shiro is idly scrolling on his datapad with one hand, his other in Keith’s. He’s cleaned his knuckles, and it still looks bad, but he’s unwilling to switch. He needs to feel Keith’s skin against his.

It’s the twitch of fingers against Shiro’s palm, in the end, that grabs his attention.

“Keith!”

The datapad is cast aside, and Shiro turns fully to look at Keith. He’s just blinking awake and looking groggy as hell. Still, Shiro has to resist the urge to lean in and gather him up, hold him close. He wants nothing more than to bury his face in Keith’s neck and just take in the scent of him, the warmth of him.

The amount of monitors still attached to Keith make a strong case against such a thing.

“Hey,” Keith says, low. His voice is a little rough from disuse, but better Galra medicine means it’s not as bad as it would have been on earth. Shiro’s grateful to hear it.

“Hey,” Shiro can feel the smile cracking his face, and he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. “How’re you feeling?”

There’s a moment where Keith just blinks, trying to get his bearings. “Better,” he says finally. “Better than the first time.”

“I’m glad.”

“Glad you’re here,” Keith says. “Mom said you were sleeping before.”

“I’m sorry I missed you.”

“S’okay. You’re here now. Where’s Mom?”

“Sleeping. Want me to go wake her?” Shiro doesn’t want to take his eyes off Keith’s lively face, but he will if Keith desires it.

“No. No, let her sleep, I’m sure she needs it. She looked rough.” Keith’s eyes flicker across Shiro. “So do you.”

“It’s been rough.”

Keith nods. “She told me what happened.”

Shiro swallows hard. A wave of loss washes over him then, how close it had been, how lucky he is to be here right now with Keith.

“I should have been here. Should’ve… done something.”

One of Keith’s eyebrow’s quirks up. “To prevent an assassination attempt that no one knew was coming?”

Shiro knows it’s ridiculous, but he also knows that it’s been a month since they’ve seen each other. Shiro just… let Keith go. He let Keith go out into the far reaches of the universe without backup, and didn’t even think about it until this very moment.

Having burned up a good deal of anger on the actual perpetrator, Shiro now feels the weight of his own guilt. Keith is the most important person to him and he just… let him go.

He’s been a fool, an utter and complete fool.

“I let you go,” he says, because it’s the only thing that feels right. “I let you go alone and I never said anything. I— Keith, I’m so sorry.”

Keith frowns. “What?”

“Keith, I love you.” It spills out then, too earnest and awkward, and it catches even Shiro off guard. Until the very moment the words were on his tongue, he hadn’t know where his own racing thoughts were going. There was only the guilt and the growing weight of something urgent inside him. Something that _needed_ Keith.

It’s so clear now though, so clear here in this room with Keith. He loves Keith. He’s _in love_ with Keith.

Keith who is frowning and pulling his hand out of Shiro’s.

“What?”

“I love you.” It’s easy to say now that Shiro recognizes it in himself. It’s as easy as breathing.

But Keith’s face transforms into something more reminiscent of hurt than joy.

“Shiro, you’re married.”

And that… is true. He opens his mouth to counter, but the easy flow of words he just had evaporate completely. It’s too shameful to admit for a moment he had completely forgotten.

“What the fuck Shiro?! You come here after I almost die and one of the first things you say is you love me?”

“I do,” Shiro says, helplessly.

Keith snorts. “And what of your husband?”

“I… Keith I don’t know. I just… it’s like I’ve been asleep. I got the call about you, about how you could be— um. And I just— nothing else mattered. It’s was suddenly so clear, so painfully clear. Curtis is great, but the moment I thought I could lose you was the worst moment of my life. And… and I guess you don’t need to say it back, I guess I don’t really know how you feel, um. I didn’t think I was going to do this. I didn’t know. I just… seeing you awake, here. Keith you’re everything, _absolutely everything_ to me.”

There’s stupid tears in Shiro’s eyes when he finishes, and he has to wipe at them to be able to see Keith.

Keith looks shell shocked by the confession, but then his eyes narrow and he’s reaching out and grabbing for Shiro’s hand. He turns it over to look at the knuckles that are swollen and barely knit closed.

“What happened?”

Shiro sniffs. “Uh. They caught the guy who poisoned you.”

Keith’s eyes flicker back up to Shiro.

“You’re serious.”

Shiro’s not sure exactly what Keith means, but Keith’s expression is dawning then into something more open, more hopeful. He nods.

“Oh shit.” Keith turns his head against the pillow to look up at the ceiling. “You’re serious. We do the entire war, I even tell you I love you, but you’re only getting it _now_.”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says.

Keith lets out a long breath. “I’ve gotta say, I had all but put it to bed Shiro. You got _married_.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Shiro reaches for his hand again, but Keith pulls it out of reach.

“No. No. We… if you’re serious about this, then we need to do it right.” He turns his head to look at Shiro and his eyes are glossy now too. “I love you Shiro, I’ve always loved you, but I love me too. I deserve more than a near-death confession from a married man.”

It aches in Shiro to hear it, but Keith’s right. Keith deserves—

“You tell Curtis, you do right by him, and then we can… talk. About us.”

The words are a stopgap to the bleed in Shiro’s heart. They feel like a second chance, an opportunity.

“Right now?”

“What?” Keith asks.

“He flew up because I wasn’t answering. He’s on world.”

“O-oh.”

Shiro is out of his seat before he realizes it. “I can—“

Before he can move, Keith reaches out and snatches his hand. For the first time there’s a wry smile on his lips. Shiro’s heart soars to see it.

“Okay, slow down there cowboy,” he says as he weaves their fingers together.

“But—“ Just moments ago Keith wasn’t willing to let Shiro touch him.

Keith almost rolls his eyes. “Just… give me a second okay. I’ve just woken up, gotten a love confession from the man I’ve been in love with since I was a teenager, give me a second before you go rushing off to _end your marriage_.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Shiro says.

Keith looks at him then for a long moment. It’s the same look he has when sizing up challenges where he’s trying to determine if he’s up for the task.

“I believe you,” Keith says finally with measured care.

Shiro squeezes his hand because he can. The luxury of just this little thing is overwhelming. They sit there in silence for a while.

“This is really happening?” Keith asks softly, almost to himself.

“For the rest of your very long and very healthy life, if you’ll let me,” Shiro says.

Keith huffs a small laugh. His eyes drift closed. “Okay. When Mom wakes up then you can go talk to Curtis. For now just stay with me.”

Shiro bends to press a kiss to the back of Keith’s hand that’s clasped in his. “I will,” he says with all the pulsing, abundant love in his chest, “forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then Shiro got a divorce and they lived happily ever after. Canon who?
> 
> Thank you @lionescence for this request! I had a lot of fun making Shiro suffer. Hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> I'm @an_aphorism on twitter where I write threads about disaster gays and continue to ignore canon.


End file.
